


Music to my Ears

by sammys_lover



Series: October writing challenge '19 [30]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Sex, Begging, Biting, Blood, Bruising, Bumper to bumper, Cute, Dancing, F/M, Grinding, Growling, HERE WE GO OH BOY, Light Masochism, Making Out, Predatory Zim, Retractable genitals, Rough Sex, Slow Dancing, Smut, Tentacle Dick, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, humping, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-08 01:30:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21227555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammys_lover/pseuds/sammys_lover
Summary: The tension has built.The dam has burst.(This fic connects to Alliance, "Affection", In my Sweater, My Human || My Irken, and Nightmares.)





	Music to my Ears

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place the day following the events of "Nightmares"

He’s never really enjoyed Halloween, and I know that. But that doesn’t change the fact that it’s my favorite holiday. 

Over the time we’ve known each other, I've tried to warm him up to it – slowly. The candy helps a great deal, and so do the pumpkin-y treats. 

I’ve even been able to sway him into keeping a pumpkin and cute little ghost decoration around. That, and he contributed by placing a banner that says “Halloween decoration” on the wall in his living room. It’s a start, at least. 

And because he’s come so far, I've even gotten away with playing a little bit of Halloween music in his base. But not to the point it shakes the walls, of course. I’m quietly dancing to the end of “Black Magic Woman” in the kitchen when he rises out of the garbage can, entering the space to see what I’m working on, probably. After he’d pulled me out of my nightmare, I’d promised to make him a little something as a thank you. I’m not sure how long he’s been there for. 

I turn to greet him with a smile as I finish up the pumpkin cheesecake, getting ready to put it in the oven. 

“Black Magic Woman” slowly fades, and a much softer song, “Come as you are” begins. It, however, is not the original. It’s a cover by a young singer I don't know the name of. 

I smile, popping the cheesecake in the oven, turning and leaning against the counter as I hold out a hand for him to take. 

“Hey there, stranger. Wanna dance?” 

I stop leaning on the counter, pulling off my apron as I gently sway to the tune that fills the kitchen. He’s been acting shy all day. Ever since we’d fallen asleep in bed together, he’s been acting oddly. 

And I know exactly why. 

The close proximity. The biting and the kissing and the little touches here and there. Last night, when the side of him I love to see had come out. Protective. A little possessive. When he calls me his human. 

It's tension. In the best way possible. 

He eyes me before crossing his arms. 

“Zim doesn’t dance. Why would I do such a silly thing?” 

I continue to sway as I approach him, crossing my arms as well. 

“Beeecause it’s fun?” 

I hold my hands out again, and after a sigh, he takes them, much to my delight. 

I quietly hum along as we sway together in the kitchen, slowly growing closer as the song continues. 

His eyes don’t leave mine for a second, not even as we grow closer and closer. Shockingly, his hands move from mine to hesitantly sit awkwardly on my waist. 

I laugh lightly, my hands leaving his arms to ghost over his hands, showing him where to hold them. 

“like that,” I tell him softly, my hands moving up to rest on his shoulders, squeezing them once. “Hey.” 

He continues to stare. 

I take a bold step -- I cup his cheek, the haunting melody of the song surrounding us both as we continue to sway in the dimly lit kitchen. 

“Relax.” 

His breath seems to hitch, his face lighting up a darker green. I smile at him softly, taking the lead in our slow-dance, moving together. 

I’m softly singing the words to him as we twirl, and he finally – finally seems to melt into my touch. I laugh a little, our eyes still locked. 

He seems almost lost in thought as I quietly sing to him, his antennae twitching slightly. 

I’m still singing softly, a warm feeling flowing through my chest when I take in exactly how he’s looking at me. 

Wide eyes, sparkling and a gorgeous color in the light, to accompany the overall expression on his face. Awestruck. Like I’m the only thing worth staring at on this side of the galaxy. I’ve noticed him staring at me before, but not like this. The eye contact is nearly too much, but before I can look away, he leans forward, his mouth colliding with mine effortlessly as the final whispered word of the song rang out in the kitchen. The space is silent, save for my heart beating in my ears. 

He pulls away, but this kiss isn’t like the other times. There’s something more. Something deeper. 

Something dangerous. 

The next song has barely started, not that I notice what it is, when we can’t help but gravitate towards one another again, much rougher. 

This kiss is passionate – and the fire behind it is clear when I feel his claws poking through the fabric of my clothes and lightly grazing my flesh. 

I inhale sharply, my other hand flying up to cup his face fully as he takes a step forward, and before I know it, I'm pinned against the kitchen wall. 

The sound of the music playing on the radio hits me like the air does when his mouth leaves mine. 

Haunted by Beyoncé is the flowing melody hitting my ears as his mouth quickly moves to bite at my neck, my hands falling from his face to ghost down his chest. 

It’s now that I take note of the height difference -- I'm normally the taller one. Right now he’s at least a foot taller than me, thanks to the spider-like legs that extend from his pak. 

I can feel his entire body shiver at the slightest touch -- especially when I play with the collar of his uniform, unsure of what else to grab. 

Every other time we’ve kissed or touched each other – even in passing – he'd seemed unsure. Today it’s different. He knows damn well what he’s doing, and he seems hellbent on continuing. 

His teeth sink into my neck, and I can’t hold back a shiver and a whimper, tilting my head and allowing him to do whatever he wants. 

My hands trail down to pull at the front of his uniform, which prompts him to look up at me as he pulls his mouth from my flesh. 

The hisses and clicks that leave his mouth are clearly Irken, but any words he’s trying to speak to me are lost. 

“Zim, b-bed. Please.” 

Now, he’s not one to take orders, but he scoops me up and dashes through the house to get to the bed that we’d left earlier. 

He sets me down underneath him, his eyes looking over me, analyzing every inch of me that he could see. 

He looks predatory right now – lidded eyes that seemed to not lose focus for a minute, his antennae slicked down as he looks me over. I can hear the holes he’s tearing in the fabric of the sheets on either side of my head with his claws. 

A low rumble – somewhere between a growl and a purr – leaves him before his sharp teeth are on my neck again, my entire body jolting when his mouth makes contact. 

My hands go to move under the hem of his uniform, but before I can, my hands are pinned down by more legs – yes, MORE legs – that come from his pak. 

He growls something in Irken against my skin. Something along the lines of “Hold still.” 

A claw moves from the top of my shirt downwards, ripping my clothes as it goes, even going as far as ripping my bra. 

The torn fabric falls to the side, exposing me to the slightly chilly air of the base. He releases my neck, a dull ache blooming where his teeth had marked me. When he sits up to look me in the eye he licks his lips, and oh- my god, his tongue is long. But I know that it’ll be a million years before Zim would bring his face anywhere near my sex. 

Or would it? God, I just want his tongue on me. 

The legs from his pak release my wrists as he takes in my now exposed chest. Jeez, he’s- he’s really staring, isn’t he? 

His expression is a mix of lust and genuine curiosity as he moves a hand to drag a thumb over my left nipple, watching it harden when he flicks it. 

My squeak must encourage him, because his mouth is on my breast before I can blink, his sharp teeth just barely grazing over my sensitive skin. 

Meanwhile, now that my hands are free, I’m able to reach down and pull his uniform up, silently requesting that it goes. Now. 

His claws dig into my side as he ruts against me, moving off of me to remove his clothing, the metal legs retreating back into his pak. 

He’s breathing heavily over me, and I happen to note in this moment that his skin is smooth. And I mean completely so. No nipples or anything. 

My nerves flutter in my chest as I look him over, flushed a darker shade as he continues to stare unblinkingly. I sit up, pulling him closer by the small of his back as I kiss him, my face burning with a blush. 

“Zim,” I begin as I pull back, his darkened eyes burning into mine. “I want- I want you to tell me how you want me to touch you.” 

I pepper kisses down his jawline, my hands moving to hook a finger beneath the black... tights? That he wears under his uniform. 

He releases a shaky breath, his normal bravado quickly returning. “Zim," He laughs a little breathlessly, "Will touch you.” 

He pushes me down and quickly grips my jeans, struggling to get them off of me, muttering about “stupid inferior human clothing.” 

Once I’m naked beneath him, he takes a moment to admire his work. 

I can only imagine how I look right now, completely nude, neck bruised and bitten by his sharp teeth. My red face and wide eyes probably make me look so flustered and desperate for him. 

His twisted smile tells me that that’s exactly how I look. 

He spreads my legs, gripping my thighs with a newly found gentleness, getting a good look at everything between my legs. 

He makes a face, a little confused. I suddenly feel pretty damn self-conscious. I know I shouldn’t, but I just- I know what he thinks of humans. What if he thinks I’m gross? Has he ever even seen human genitalia before? 

I squirm in an attempt to shut my legs, but his grip remains firm as he inches closer to me. 

Fuckufuckfuckfuckfuck- 

His antennae twitch and his eyes flick up to mine, and for a moment, I think he’s actually going to just dive right in. 

Instead, I get to watch as his long tongue moves from between his lips to snake along my inner thigh, his eyes watching me with a certain intensity that I cannot name. 

His tongue retracts into his mouth, his eyes not leaving mine for a second. 

“You’re ovulating.” 

What? 

“I can smell it on you.” 

Fuck. 

I visibly shudder, and his mouth curls into a devious smirk for a second before he moves back up my body to capture my mouth in a heated kiss, our tongues battling for dominance. 

I somehow manage to work his bottoms off, and they’re blissfully gone as I roll the both of us over so I’m on top of him for a change. 

Now, this is a rare sight to see. Zim doesn’t give his trust away blindly, and to allow me to pin him to the mattress is a huge display of that trust. 

I look over his body. 

He’s the same shade of green all over himself (save for his face which has darkened with a blush,) without a hair in sight. His chest is free of any and all blemishes, and between his legs is- 

Oh. 

He has... well, they look like lips identical to the ones between my legs, wetness made prominent. His anatomy seems to be similar to mine. 

“Zim I uh, I...” I falter for a moment before gently grabbing one of his legs and wrapping it around my waist, bringing our sexes closer to one another. He looks extremely embarrassed by his position looking up at me, but I'll be damned if he’s not absolutely adorable. 

“T-tell me if this feels good, okay?” 

I lick the pad of my thumb, looking him dead in the eye as I do before lowering my hand to brush against where his clit should be. 

He squirms with a gasp, and I know I’ve got what I’m looking for. God, he makes cute little noises. 

With a nervous breath, I press my sex to his, almost whimpering at the contact. 

“Fuck,” My breath is shaky as I look at him, gripping handfuls of the sheets, muttering something I can’t quite catch. 

“You okay?” 

He seems almost touched by my concern, a breathless laugh leaving him. 

“I am better than okay. But I would like to see your attempt to entertain the amazing Zim sometime toda-ahh-!” 

I grind against him mid-sentence, and his snide comment is cut short by his own moan. It’s shockingly not shrill or deafening, but rather, like a strangled groan. Like he’d never been touched like this before. 

I roll my hips, starting off easy on him for now. If this was the first time he’d ever... oh, god. I'm probably the first person to ever get him off. 

I moan out his name quietly, my hand moving to allow our fingers to intertwine. 

His Antennae perk up at the sound of my moan as I grind against him, intensifying my actions, absolutely lewd noises filling the room around us to accompany our soft moans. 

He rolls his hips and grinds them against mine, brows knitted as he looks up at me. Between the friction of our sexes grinding against one another and the way he looks and sounds under me is enough to almost have me cum on the spot. 

As we pick up speed and intensity, I feel something brush against my entrance, nearly entering me. And before I can question it, Zim has flipped and pinned me down onto the mattress, his hips still grinding against mine for a moment before he visibly shudders, a mix between a growl, a purr, and a moan leaving him as something heavy repels from between his soaking lips between his legs. 

Oh fuck me, that’s a dick. 

No, wait, that’s a- a tentacle. It looks like his tongue, only longer, somehow. It gets thicker the closer it gets to the base, thrashing slightly between his legs, coated in his and my slick. I swallow harshly. 

“I am aware that your feeble little human anatomy does not include a,” He speaks a word I'm not familiar with in Irken, “But do not worry.” The tentacle feels like it’s licking me as he continues to grind at a teasing pace. 

“I know exactly what to do to you.” 

The more he grinds against me, the hotter I feel. I know exactly what he wants, and he knows that I know it. 

Our hands are still holding one another when he leans over me, just barely pressing the thrashing tip into me. 

He wants me to beg. 

His mouth curls into a wicked smirk when I make the smallest noise, pushing my hips upwards in an attempt to get some other sort of friction. He gives me no such luxury. 

“Zim, please-!” He presses forward a little more, slowly sinking into me, his tentacle thrashing like a tongue the entire time. “Oh, god-” His tentacle brushes against my g-spot, a visible shiver from me earning me a purr from him. “Zim just please fuck me already,” I gather my wits to look up at him and mutter a single word in Irken. 

“Please!” 

Good enough for him. 

He’s suddenly filling me completely, a groan falling from his lips as I clench around him with a strangled whimper. 

God, it’s an odd sensation. The tentacle is still squirming and pulsing inside me, even when he rolls his hips against me, adding to the thrashing. It’s like it’s licking every sweet spot inside me with every movement, and I, not thinking clearly, grab his one of his antennae, tugging slightly. 

The look on his face is one I am just... not expecting. 

His eyes roll back into his head for a moment, and he swears – yes, swears – in his native tongue, his movements between my legs becoming more frantic, his claws digging into my hip. 

I squeeze his hand when I whimper his name, the tension growing as I try to match his ever-growing pace to no avail. 

The tentacle curls inside me when his hips sit flush with mine, and soon all I can do is tug on his antennae as he fucks me so hard the both of us are moving up the bed until he’s pinning me to the headboard, which is slamming against the wall. 

He’s muttering something over and over like a prayer as he squeezes his eyes shut, the muscles in his back tensing beneath his fingertips as I dig my nails into him. 

Pain has been blooming in my hip where he has a death grip on me, his claws scratching me, blood running down my body onto the pillow below. 

I pull on his antennae as I cum around him, squirming and bucking as I breathe and cry out his name like it was the only thing I could say, my legs tightening around his waist as I try to just breathe. 

But he doesn’t stop on my account. He continues, his pace never faltering, the headboard still thudding against the wall so hard that I fear the bed may break beneath him as he fucks me against it. 

I’m still sensitive from my orgasm, another building impossibly fast as I struggle to keep a foot in reality. 

“Fuck, Zim, I can’t-I’m gonna-!” 

I’m spasming uncontrollably under him, screaming as tears sting my eyes as he forces another orgasm from me. He finally, finally, seems to break his pace when he moans like a goddamned whore, tentacle thrusting wildly, causing my stomach to bulge before It goes rigid. 

Zim’s still squirming slightly when his hand, covered in my blood, leaves my hip. He tenderly cups my face, forcing me to look at him. I gently stroke his antennae in return, registering the blood that was being smeared across my cheek by his sweet action. 

He mutters sweet nothings in Irken to me as his tentacle slowly retracts from my body to return into his own as we both come down from our high. He notes my still-trembling form, mumbles something about how pathetically weak and fragile human bodies are before the legs from his pak grab a blanket from the (now completely trashed) bed to wrap around me as he pulls himself away. 

He looks over me, bloody, bruised, and spent, very satisfied with himself as he gets off of the bed, gathering his clothes. His stamina seems endless, good lord. 

I take the opportunity to move the blanket to look down at my hip, which is pretty damn scratched up. Hey, wait a second. that kinda looks like... 

“Did you... carve the Irken invader symbol into my hip?” 

He looks up at me as he pulls his bottoms on, looking for the rest of his uniform that had been tossed carelessly away. 

“Yes,” He states matter-of-factly, finding his uniform and dressing quickly, straightening out any wrinkles that were there as he eyed me. “I have successfully invaded you.” 

He looks dead serious before shooting me a wink, and it takes everything in me not to giggle at that. 

“Now if you will excuse Zim, and you will, I must go upgrade your primitive knives so you have at least some way so defending yourself when the strong and amazing Zim is unable to protect you.” oh yeah. I'd completely forgotten about his plans for a weapon for me from earlier. 

He turns to march out of the room, only stopping when I make a small noise, giving him the best puppy eyes I can manage. He sighs, feigning annoyance as he walks back over to me, kissing me gently once before gazing at me with a hint of adoration in his eyes. He kisses me once more before backing away, calling out “I will return!” over his shoulder. 

He’ll probably be a few hours, so I take a moment to let my legs return to normal. 

I’ll be sporting some nice bruises on my hips and neck, and my hip will be a little torn up for a while, not mentioning the Invader’s symbol scar that I’ll have after my cuts heal. 

But holy fuck, man. 

I can’t wait to do that again.

**Author's Note:**

> But what happened to the cheesecake that was left in the oven?
> 
> ***  
Having been left in the lab, Gir had gotten quite bored. He wasn't sure where his master had gone off to, or when he'd be back, so he figured he would go see what Ms master is up to!
> 
> He rides up the shute and pops out of the garbage can, landing him in the kitchen, which smelled really good!
> 
> Seeing as it was empty, Gir realized that nobody was around to stop him from finding the source of the delicious smell.
> 
> To his absolute delight, the smell was coming from the oven! It's not a candle this time! He opens the oven up, pulling the cheesecake out of the oven.
> 
> It is not finished yet.
> 
> And, Gir being Gir, decides to stick his hand in the piping hot batter, pulling it out and having a taste.
> 
> "MMMMM!!!"
> 
> He then proceeds to climb into the batter, the pan sitting on the kitchen floor as he gets comfortable, repeatedly dunking his "paws" in and licking them clean.
> 
> He hears nary a commotion, too wrapped up in the batter to note the thumps coming from...somewhere.
> 
> And tragically, he is not caught orange-handed until it's far too late for what could have been a magnificent cheesecake.
> 
> But he doesn't regret it.
> 
> He knows that Ms master will make another one! Because she's so sweet and nice!
> 
> And he's right. She will make another one!
> 
> Riiight after she's able to get out of bed.
> 
> Which might be a good minute.


End file.
